Bright White Light
by starlight.moon.princess
Summary: Everything can be explained :: A Patil twins collection
1. Going Home

In a way, summers were always one of the best parts of being a Hogwarts student. Before, they would return home maybe once every two years, but having Padma and Parvati at Hogwarts made their parents nostalgic like they had only been when they had first come to England.

So Parvati's summers were spent under the Bengal sun, dressed in thin clothes and surrounded by poets and authors, wands constantly at the ready to protect against the torrential rains that were typical during Indian monsoons. It was the one story that would never fail to make the rest of the Gryffindors jealous – in a country where magic was so intertwined with religion and custom, there had never truly been any need for a Ministry of Magic like there was in Britain, and a large part of her memories of Bengal involved lights dancing on the marshes as they were directed by Padma and her.

It was a rite of passage in India, in Bengal – the _Aleya_ had existed in the marshes for as long as the muggles could remember, and their existence meant that a bored teenage wizard didn't do something that couldn't be explained away by faith and religion.

Bengal was as much home to Parvati as London and Hogwarts were.

The first time she returned the India after the war, the heat reminded her uncomfortably of the _Incendios_ the Carrows had directed at the students. They had jerked their wands away at the last possible moment, and as the sun rose higher in the sky, she couldn't help but feel the heat of magical fire on her skin again. And sitting in silence surrounded by poets and authors made her want to scream in frustration, because the last year had taught her to speak whenever she got a chance, and besides, the cries of rebellion were still stuck in her throat, fighting their way out.

But she still returned the marshes, and as the sun rose and the lights came out, there was still one piece of home that Voldemort hadn't been able to steal away from her.

* * *

**an: the aleya are marsh lights that are seen in Bengal, India - basically, an Indian version of the will-o-the-wisp phenomena.  
**

**this collection is going to focus on the patil twins - at least one of them will appear in each chapter. each chapter is self-contained, and there will probably be several different aus referenced here - the major binding agent of the collection is the characters.**

**i hope you guys liked it! as always, please don't forget to drop a review on your way out :)**


	2. Explosion

Her world ends on a Saturday.

For most people, the end of the world had already happened seven years before that day, on a Tuesday, but for her, it ends on a Saturday.

Padma was never been supposed to have been there. It's the only thing that she can think as she stares at the television screen in front of her. Padma was never even supposed to have been in Mumbai, but a last minute change in plans means that Parvati is now staring at the screen and hoping against hope that she will somehow see her face running out of the hotel.

It's a stupid, unlikely hope, she knows that. There are terrorists in the Taj – and her mind still refuses to accept that, remembering the hotel as the place that used to be a treat for her and Padma during the summers – and if her sister is caught trying to escape, she will _definitely_ die.

It's ironic that the place that is her prison may also be the safest place for her to be at the moment.

* * *

She doesn't use the television in her home much.

It's installation had been a point of compromise between her and Lavender, who had taken to Muggle technology like a duck to water after Padma had introduced her to it. While Parvati doesn't have the deep-seated suspicion of it that so many purebloods do, she has never been able to be as comfortable about its existence as her lover and her twin.

The only reason she knows what is happening is because Lavender had already left for the day, taking the Prophet with her, when she had gotten up. She hates not knowing what is happening, and the television had been her only option.

For her, the television is now undeniably linked with the image of the attacks on Mumbai – with the image of what feels like a personal attack on her sister.

The thought of Padma in there is horrifying to her. She was never supposed to be in Mumbai in the first place – the Prophet had sent her to Ireland, and it was only yesterday that they had told her that they had changed her travel plans. She knows that if anything happens to her, she will never be able to forgive the newspaper the way she did after the war against Voldemort.

Mumbai is going up in flames, and taking her sister with it, and all Parvati can do is watch and hope.

* * *

Lavender rushes home a few hours after the attacks on Mumbai become public knowledge. Their home is inundated with calls, from family and friends, and it is she who answers them.

Parvati cannot. Her eyes are glued to the television, constantly hoping. Their parents are on their second honeymoon, enjoying a safari in the wilds of Africa, and Parvati is the only the only member of their immediate family who knows. She's the only one who can hold a silent vigil for her sister, and she will not be moved from her position while she is doing so.

* * *

A day later, and there is yet no news.

The attacks are all that Indian news channels are showing, the only television channels that can be heard in her home. It's been twenty-four hours, and there's still no news of her sister.

A part of Parvati knows that that isn't a good thing. A part of her knows that as each second passes with no news of Padma, the chances of her being dead grow exponentially larger. But at the same time, she's well aware that she cannot listen to that voice.

Hope is the only thing that is keeping her going at the moment, and if she decides to give that up, she knows that she will break into pieces.

She has to hope. Both for Padma, and for herself.

* * *

As 28th November dawns, there is still no news. The twenty-four hour mark has come and gone a long time ago, and there are commandos inside the Taj, trying to rescue survivors and get the hotel out of the hands of the terrorists.

She knows that everyone involved is doing the best job they can, but at the moment, she hates them. It is her sister who she knows nothing about, and she can do nothing to help, sitting halfway across the world. All she can do is stare at a television screen, and she cannot help but hate the people who have a chance to do something but who haven't yet managed to find her sister.

For all that she was named after a goddess, Parvati has been an atheist since her fifth year. That was the year when Voldemort started returning to power, and the year that she realised that God most probably did not exist. If he did, he would never have let that murderous maniac gain any semblance of power once, let alone twice. If he did, she would not have had to witness the death masks of her classmates, cut down while they were still underage.

Parvati has been an atheist for a long time, but on the 28th of November, she folds her hand and bows her head, and says prayers she was sure that she had forgotten. Hindu religion acknowledges the existence of more that three hundred and thirty million deities, and Parvati closes her eyes and prays to every one of them that she can recall.

* * *

**A/N: 28th November, 2008 was the day of one of the deadliest terrorist attacks on Mumbai, when terrorists attacked several locations throughout the city. These included the Taj Mahal Palace and Tower, one of the city's premier hotels. 164 people were killed, including several foreign nationals and law enforcement officers.**

**Prompts: 'A Lament' by Oscar Wilde, specifically the lines "Yet from the sorrows of his life / Builds ladders to be nearer God." and 'Someday' by Nickleback, specifically the line "How the hell did we wind up like this?"**

**As always, please don't forget to drop a review on your way out.**


	3. Bond

"Why?"

It's the only thing she says when Parvati announces that she wants to be a Gryffindor.

They're seven, and she can't see what's so great about the house of lions. Sure, that's the house that reportedly produced Dumbledore, but Slytherin produced Merlin, and for all that the latter was the greatest wizard ever to live, there are few people lining up with a desire to be sorted into the house of snakes.

To her, Gryffindor might be the house of the brave, but it's also the house of the foolish.

(That judgement has nothing to do with the fact that Parvati was also in bed with a broken arm at the time of their conversation, a broken arm she got trying to fly without a broom. It's a claim she'll stick to for the rest of her life.)

But when people talk about Hogwarts to her, it's Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff that she's truly curious about. Everyone knows all there is to know about the other two houses and the men who gave them their names. The houses the witches founded, however, are barely remembered – Ravenclaw only just passing muster, and Hufflepuff all but forgotten.

She's read Hogwarts: A History – Ravenclaw's story is given barely three chapters to the ten devoted to Gryffindor and Slytherin each, and the only mention of Helga Hufflepuff as anything other than a teacher is that she apparently had a melodious voice, one that made the school stop so they could listen to her. There are far better books on Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, of course, but that's the one that's read the most, and the lack of information about them only makes her want to know more – makes her want to understand who they were more.

She doesn't care about the history that Godric and Salazar left behind. She wants to know more about the mysteries that surround the women who helped the build the most well known school of magic in the wizarding world.

* * *

"Silver lime, 10 inches, with a phoenix feather core. Nice and swishy, and particularly suited for Charms – and, of course…Well, I suppose that's something you'll find out on your own, won't you, Miss Patil? As will you, Miss Patil, considering your wand is also made from the same wood – from the same tree, in fact, but of course, the reasons for that are obvious."

They're in Diagon Alley, and Mr. Ollivander stares down at them from behind his glasses, and she cannot help but feel unbearably curious. Mysteries are all well and good, but not when they're dangled in front of her, begging to be solved immediately.

She cannot wait to get to Hogwarts and into what's said to be the greatest library in Britain.

* * *

"I just want to understand. That's all."

"You're a unique one," the Sorting Hat murmurs in her head. "There aren't many who know the difference between knowledge and understanding, but you…"

"There's really only one place for you," it says, "And I think you know it too."

She thinks about that moment in Diagon Alley, and all the things that she's desperate to understand – the mysteries she wants nothing more than to unravel.

The Hat is right. She knows where's she's meant to be – maybe she's always known, even that day four years ago when she first spoke to Parvati about the Hogwarts houses.

She doesn't say anything, but then, she doesn't need to. The Sorting Hat is looking into her head, after all.

When it bellows "RAVENCLAW!" she walks towards the students wearing blue and bronze, trying not to wince at the look of betrayal on Parvati's face. She's made the right choice, she knows that looking at the eager faces sitting at the Ravenclaw table.

Parvati will come around, once she takes the time to think about it. She always does when she knows Padma's right, and Padma knows her twin. Parvati knows that they aren't meant to stay together just as well as she does.

They might share a bond, but they've always been different too. And here, in this place, she can't wait to explore everything that that difference means.

* * *

**A/N: According to the wiki, silver lime is a wand wood that's used very rarely, and signifies an ability in Divination or Legilimency. I though the first an appropriate area of skill for Parvati, and the second for Padma C:**

**Written for the Hunger Games: Fanfic Style Competition, using the word, dialogue, ****character, setting and subject.**


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